


If John Fell

by action_cat



Series: If John Fell Series [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: 221b, AU, Alternate Universe, Baker Street, Cutting, Denial, Drugs, Happy Ending, M/M, Mentions of Suicidal Thoughts, Reichenbach Fall, Suicide, Video, drifts, tick tock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-11
Updated: 2014-10-11
Packaged: 2018-02-20 18:55:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2439224
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/action_cat/pseuds/action_cat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock Holmes makes a video describing his experience of when John fell from the roof of a building a fortnight ago.</p>
            </blockquote>





	If John Fell

**Author's Note:**

> Hi guys, this is my first fanfic so don't expect greatness. But I'll try my best. Anyway, this is an AU (alternate universe) when John fell in Reichenbach Falls instead of Sherlock (sorry if you haven't gotten that far yet). Also, John says jam and Sherlock says jelly, so John gets real pissed when Sherlock says that. In Sherlocks' grief, he makes a video concerning what happened and his theories of why it happened. Enjoy!

Click. Vrooom, bopbopbop. Sherlock turned the camera on, and sat down on his chair in front of it. He looked very tired, but stared directly into the camera. When he spoke, his voice was unwavering, yet with a depth of sorrow. He grimaced, then began to speak.

  
"That one moment. It didn't take anything, just a push. Or a step. But when push comes to shove, my dear Watson was falling. It was angelic, in a horribly, gruesome, heart-wrenching moment. He looked into my eyes, a single nod, like we shared a secret. And then, still looking, he fell. It was so slow, I started to run, my muscles jelly."

  
_Jam, it's jam, Sherlock. Raspberry, and don't be late or Mrs. Hudson will tan your backside._

  
"God, I can still hear him grumble about how he preferred to say jam instead of jelly, that bastard. But anyway.

  
"I watched from a street corner, under a lamp post. It was one of the oldest in the city, and so many people had carved their names into it. I remember everything about that moment. But nothing matters about that day, except that was the day that my dear Watson fell. My phone rang, and I heard him on the other line.

  
" 'This is what people do right? Leave a note? ' "

  
"As he fell, I ran. I ran as though I was being chased by that fake drug induced horror of Baskerville. But I wasn't afraid then, because John was there. I ran as though Moriarty had told me to run or the bomb would go off on that blogger who had unknowingly changed everything about me. I was afraid then, not for my life, but for his. I ran, as my heart fell from the roof of a building to the cold concrete below. But it was too late.

  
"Anderson said there was nothing I could do, but he's a stupid git. I could have done everything. I screamed his name. Fat load of help I am."

  
Sherlock took a sharp intake of breathe and covered his face with his hands. When he looked back at the camera, two tear tracks ran down his dusty cheeks.

  
"Right. Sorry. I'll continue.

  
"John fell, his coat flapping behind him as he looked at the pavement. I wonder now, was he afraid? Was he knowingly preparing to die? I know it would have been instantaneous, no suffering at all. But the fact is, although I ran as fast as I could towards him, by the time I got to him, he was...gone."

  
At this point Sherlock actually did cry again, a soundless stare of remorse upon his face. Tears dripped down his cheeks, as he leaned back in his chair and stared at the ceiling, his chest shuddering uncontrollably. No noise came out, but he crossed his arms and then put his hands over his face, leaning forwards and when he looked back at the recorder, eyes red, I knew he couldn't take this anymore.

  
"I was the first to get to him. His eyes were open, like the windows of a soul. His mouth, slightly parted, was just like that first moment I met him when he was astounded to learn that I knew in an instant he'd been in the army.

  
"But as I shook him, begging him to wake up, before the first people got to us, I noticed two tear tracks, running down his cheeks. It was all I could think of, after that. He had cried as he fell from that building. My beautiful blogger, had cried as he fell. Of course, psychology will tell us that any person will cry as they commit suicide. However, I don't believe this was suicide. But more on that later.

  
" The ambulance came and took him away, and I was taken home. I don't remember much after that. I thought I saw him, once or twice, or maybe every moment after that. My mind has worked out every possible scenario that fit the evidence. Only two fit. The first, was that John jumped, because his time in the army had traumatized him. But I didn't pay attention to that one, because I knew it wasn't true.

  
" The second scenario, and in my opinion the only scenario that fit, was that John was pushed. I have no evidence of this except, as John fell, I saw something or someone move behind him. Dark hair, dark coat, I have my suspicions.

  
"Also, I stole Johns coat from the morgue. Well, 'stole' is such a harsh word, I prefer 'rightfully taken' or 'borrowed'. Inside the coat, I found two notes. One was to me, saying to pick up milk and raspberry jam along with biscuits from the grocery. Another, written in thin, sloping handwriting, was a simple message, but one that has nonetheless haunted me into making this video. "

  
As Sherlock reached into his bathrobe, (he was in his pajamas. Personally, I had expected a sheet.), I sat up. He couldn't read the note, or he would die too. But I knew he knew that. He wanted to die, as what happened a fortnight ago would traumatize him forever. But I sat down and continued the video.

  
"The message reads as follows.

  
       _Dear John,_  
 _I hope that you will meet us at the preferred place at the usual time tomorrow. He is assured to be there, and everything will work out as planned. If as to plan, Sherlock is reading this right now. Hello Sherlock. But John, you know what will happen if this doesn't. It will traumatize him forever, but a price must always be paid. No need to worry, there will be no remembrance of what happens on the roof. I can assure you of that._

  
_I hope to find you tomorrow, or bear the consequences._

  
"Underneath was an unintelligible signature, and I resorted to believing that John knew who he was. But, I can now conclude that Johns' death was planned, and in some way I can hope that if it was planned, he might still be alive. If not, well, I suppose there will be another grave along with John in the Holmes crypt."

  
Sherlock looked directly into the camera, and with a breaking voice named heirs and where to find his will. He smiled, and murmured three days, then clicked off on the camera.  
I looked at the date. Two days, twenty three hours and five minutes ago was this video made. I have no time to loose. 

  
I jumped out of my room, hailed a cab, and ran the rest of the way since traffic was hell. By the time I got to Baker Street, I had three minutes.

  
"WHERE ARE MY DAMN KEYS! MRS. HUDSON! MRS. HUDSON OPEN UP!" I screamed, then finally found the key at the bottom of my pockets.

  
The door was unlocked. Two minutes.

  
The door to the flat was open. One minute.

  
  Sherlock’s bedroom door was locked.

  
Thirty seconds, and away went the door.

  
And there he was.

  
Sherlock Holmes was sitting on his bed, staring at a pocket watch. Tears dripped down his nose, and he made no notice of when I walked in.

  
"Sherlock. It's me, I'm alive." I sat on his bed, right next to him, waiting to him to look at me. He didn't.

  
"Sherlock." I took the watch away from him, but he tugged back.

  
"Give it back. Fifteen more seconds, Mycroft."

  
"Sherlock look at me! I'm not bloody Mycroft!"

  
Finally he looked at me, and the second he did, his eyes widened. "John?" I smiled, sadly, as he put his hand on my heart, on my wrist, took my pulse, tried to punch me, and finally, just stared at me.

  
"Sherlock, d'you ever think I'd I ever leave you?"

  
My genius looked at me, and said, with tears pouring down his face, "Don't ever do that. YOU STUPID BASTARD DONT EVER DO THAT AGAIN YOU STUPID GIT!"

  
He tried to punch me, to shove me, even to bite me, but eventually he hugged me, and I didn't let him go. I think we fell asleep like that, but I can't remember. After my returning, Sherlock wasn't the same. After a few months, of course, he was back to his old arrogant self. Whether that was a good thing or a bad thing, as he would constantly quote my low intelligence. I knew I was, but it still hurt. But whenever he looked at me, every time he glanced back at me from the corner of his eye, when he thought I wasn't looking, I knew he was making sure I was still there. But he had nothing to worry about, because for the rest of our very, very, long lives, I will always stay with him. Even though he says jelly, instead of jam.

**Author's Note:**

> So, how was it? I'm sorry there wasn't that much of an end scene, i didn't have many ideas. Also, when he said there will be another body in the Holmes crypt, I imagined that the Holmes family had a crypt and Sherlock made Mycroft bury John there. But thanks for reading it, and i would enjoy feedback. Thanks!


End file.
